Paperclip
by toomuchsprite
Summary: A seemingly perfect day for the Lightman Group takes an unexpected turn when everything goes horribly wrong. Lightman/Foster. Rating may change in future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Paperclip

**Disclaimer: I don't own Lie to Me or the characters. I don't plan on making any kind of profit from this story. Unless you count any reviews I might receive, because my reviewers are good as gold! (I'm so lame :D) **

**A/N: I was extremely bored today and just started writing this little piece of randomness. Soon enough, it actually started going somewhere, so I decided to post it. More chapters are coming eventually (I don't put soon because I refuse to lie to you; I'll try my hardest to make the time frame between chapters reasonable!)**

Sunlight poured into Cal Lightman's office through the large windows behind his desk, basking the room in warmth and illuminating every inch. The cheerful setting contrasted the man's semi-annoyed face as he scanned the report before him. Gillian lounged in the chair across from him, enjoying a slushie she had picked up on the way to work. Every once in awhile, her amused blue eyes would flicker to her friend and she would contain her giggles at his foul mood. It must be Eli's paper.

As she sucked down the last of the icy drink, Gillian stood and deposited the empty cup in the trash can. Silently, she wandered over to the window and watched the traffic rush by in the streets below. Cal sighed from behind her, his chair protesting as he leaned back.

"How did Loker graduate from MIT with the grammatical prowess of a ten-year-old?" Cal's voice almost held a whining tone. He swiveled to face the woman behind him and folded his arms across his chest. He hated slow days. He'd rather be up to his neck in homicides and petty thefts than have absolutely nothing to do. He cursed his current position—stuck reading the case reports that should have been finished months ago.

The joyful smile his partner sent him would have made him scowl if it hadn't been so long since he'd seen it. How could she be so happy when he was in utter misery? Before she could speak, he swiveled back toward his desk in search of some ammunition for his claims. Her heels clicked softly as she came up behind him, reading over his shoulder.

"See, here." Cal held up the report, pointing toward the offending word. "Does he even know what 'galvanize' means? He's used it all wrong here."

"You're just bored." Gillian smiled, folding her arms across her friend's shoulders and leaning against him as she read. "You're blowing the smallest detail out of proportion to give yourself something to complain about. It's entertainment."

"Why do I even bother with you?" Cal muttered, seemingly unbothered by the fact that Gillian was leaning against him. He knew there was some comment on laziness or personal space in there, but he honestly couldn't care less. All of his rules became null and void when it came to Gillian Foster. It had always been that way.

"Because, Cal Lightman, I keep you sane."

"Do you?" Cal raised an eyebrow. "I know a few choice people who would say you're slipping at your job lately."

"Well, I keep you from running rampant through the streets of D.C." Gillian smirked, "And admit it—you like having me around."

"Ehh . . ." Cal produced a mock scowl of disgust, earning him a light-hearted slap on the cheek. His scowl slid into a grin. "Was that necessary?"

"It's always necessary," Gillian murmured, standing and moving back toward the windows. Cal waited a second before turning around, absently raising his hand and touching the spot where Gillian had swatted him. Fortunately, he caught himself with the same stupid grin on his face just before she turned around. Quickly enough, he morphed back into professional, no-nonsense Cal.

Gillian concealed her smile.

"Dammit . . ." Cal cursed softly, his professional façade slipping into that of defeat.

"You're so rarely happy, Cal. You're unprepared when it comes time to hide it." Gillian teased him, moving toward the doorway.

"Where are you going?"

"I've got a meeting . . ." Gillian's voice, an undertone of amusement included, faded as she shot Cal one last glance.

Cal's hand—which had been tapping a pen lightly against the desktop—stopped, and his hazel eyes fixed on the empty doorway as if waiting for something to pop out. A thought registered in his mind as his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Hey! You don't have any meetings today!"

Gillian smiled as she heard her partner's voice down the hallway.

Ria Torres stopped, turning on her heel in the direction of her boss's office.

"_Hey! You don't have any meetings today!"_

One perfectly-manicured eyebrow rose as she continued on her journey to the analysis room where Eli Loker was currently spending his free time by looking over old tapes of politicians caught in a range of lies. She was feeling good today. The weather was absolutely beautiful and her car had actually started on the first go this morning. Not a huge accomplishment, but it had been a good omen for the rest of the day.

Ria grinned as Gillian passed her, catching the amused smile on the older woman's face. Three guesses she knew who it was Lightman had been yelling after. She wondered how there could be such a drastic contrast in Lightman's attitude around the other employees of the Group, and around Gillian. She figured it had, more or less, something to do with the history between them. Lightman _had_ known Gillian the longest. Still, Ria couldn't help but want to know more about the dynamic that had the ability to turn Lightman from a hardass, down-to-business boss into a playful _human being_ just with the presence of one woman.

Oh, for the kind of power Gillian Foster possessed . . . did she even _know_?

"Hey, what are you up to?"

The immediate presence snapped Ria from her thoughts and made her jump. Cursing the curly-haired man for sneaking up on her, she sent him a weak, meaningless glare that held no effect against the child-like man's wide grin.

"I was trying to find you," Ria almost growled, calming down. "But it seems you had other plans this morning. Like giving me a heart-attack."

"Sorry," Eli shrugged.

"You're not sorry." Ria mumbled, continuing toward the analysis room with Loker on her heels like a lost puppy. Eli shrugged once more. It didn't take a professional to know he felt no remorse whatsoever for the numerous little stunts he pulled around the building.

"Hey, you know where Lightman is?" Eli asked as they stopped before a door. Ria reached for the handle and stopped.

"He's not in his office?" She asked, puzzled. "I just heard him . . ."

"Nah, I just checked."

"Foster might know . . . if he's not already with her." Ria nodded her head in the direction of Gillian's office. "I think he's bored. Poor Foster, he'll be bugging her all day. I don't know how she stands to be around that man more than an hour."

"She's used to it," Eli grinned. "I'll catch you later."

Ria watched Eli disappear down the hall and around the corner, shaking her head in exasperation and slight adoration. You couldn't help but want to be around Loker when on a good day like today. He was like a cute little stuffed-animal you want to simultaneously squeeze and smother at the same time.

Ria opened the door and was immediately knocked to the floor, the building shaking as if being hit by an earthquake. Her files spilled from her arms and scattered across the tiles, her heart beating painfully fast against her chest.

"What the hell?" Her voice was lost in the piercing sound of the fire alarm blaring in the halls, and the shouts and screams of people just beyond the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, here's chapter two! I actually wrote this one pretty quickly (compared to the last one at least) and it's about the same size. Hopefully, you'll like it and have good things to say when you review! Chapter 3 will be up soon!**

Eli had barely rounded the corner when it sounded as if a train had crashed into the building and the ground wavered beneath his feet. Reaching out to break his fall, Eli's head smashed into the wall and he released a pained groan. The instant trill of simultaneous fire alarms sent a fresh stab of pain through his skull and he reached up with one shaky hand, touching the wound. His fingers came back red and slick with blood.

Quick, frightened eyes scanned the hallway around him from the ground. The only light illuminating the powerless corridor was the alternating flash of red and blinding white from the emergency alarm. Eli struggled to his knees and felt around the floor, nicking his fingers on broken glass and shattered tile. Taking in a gulp of air, he coughed as his lungs filled with smoke and debris. The first thought that crossed his mind was _bomb, bomb, bomb._

Coughing and keeping low to the ground, Eli felt his way down the wall. He almost found it humorous that the second thought that crossed his mind was how un-manly it was of him to be crawling on the floor like a defenseless toddler. As the blood from his head-wound dripped down his face and onto his collar, that thought vanished. Eli stopped immediately as another violent tremor shook the building. As he desperately tried to see and find a safe passage out of hell, another disturbing thought crossed his mind, making his blood run cold.

_What if the building collapses?_

As if sent by God himself, Loker was almost blinded by the light of a flashlight sweeping across his face, and the reflection of the emergency alarms as they flashed off the firefighter's visor.

_**********_

Abandoning her papers on the ground, Ria threw open the door with shaking hands and peeked into the corridor. She wasn't sure what she expected to see. A cataclysmic hallway converted into that of a war-zone, perhaps, but not this. Not the same pristine halls she'd faced every day for the past thirteen weeks, illuminated only by a window on the far end and the flickering of lights. Her heart still threatened to burst from her chest as she forced herself from the faux safety of the analysis room.

The fire alarms flashed threateningly above and before she'd reached the end of the hall she could hear sirens screaming in the distance. She wondered how many injured there would be. She wondered how many . . . stop it. She forced herself not to think about it. One step after another, Ria pushed open the emergency exit and found herself in a pitch black stairwell. Quickly taking the steps, she carefully maneuvered until an ear-piercing scream filled her ears. She froze and realized the sound was coming from just below her.

"Hello?" She called hesitantly, feeling her way down the staircase. The toe of her high-heel jabbed into something squishy and a soft whimper lifted to her ears. "Hey, are you okay?"

Kneeling, Ria let her hands crawl from the floor to the woman beneath her. The woman didn't speak except for a few whimpers every now and then. As Ria's hand accidentally came in contact with her leg, the woman let out another animal-like scream of pain. The blood in Ria's ears pounded out her heartbeat in response to the sound.

"Come on, we have to get help." Ria immediately asked the woman to wrap her arm around her shoulders. Supporting her weight, Ria made the slow descent down the stair case, traversing two more floors with extreme caution. From the painfully tedious trek, she realized the woman must have broken her leg. She'd probably been at the top of the stairs when the building began its violent shaking. Had she fallen down the stairs? Ria winced sympathetically and finally got a good look at the woman once they pushed their way through the emergency door and into the blinding sunlight.

The woman was not much older than Ria herself, with dirty-blonde hair and watery, red-rimmed eyes that were the color of jade. Immediately, a number of men wearing neon-yellow vests and police uniforms underneath scooped the woman out of her grasp and carried her to a waiting ambulance. Another man took Ria by the arm and led her a safe distance from the building, asking her repeatedly if she was alright. Knowing she was shaken, but not injured, Ria denied any wounds and the man moved on. Everything seemed so surreal as police-officers and firefighters rushed between cars and debris.

Ria wasn't prepared to see the true destruction the building had taken. The same sunlight that had seemed so beautiful and welcomed just an hour before now glinted off shards of blown-out glass from windows. There seemed to be a fire being contained on the east side of the building—or what was left of it—and a number of rescue workers running in and out of the building. Sometimes they returned with other injured people like the woman Ria had helped and sometimes empty-handed. Frantically looking around, she felt a brief wave of relief wash over her as she spotted a familiar face.

"Dr. Lightman!" She called out as she jogged over. Oddly, he didn't seem to hear her until she'd called his name a third time. Unable to stop herself, she immediately saw the storm of emotions on his face. It seemed the mask of apathy had slipped a little in the tragedy of the situation. Concern laced his features as the predominant emotion and Ria could tell by the prim condition of his clothing he hadn't been in the building.

"Where were you?" Ria asked, heart pounding from the adrenaline. "What's going on?"

"You'd know more than I do," Cal muttered, something lacking in his voice. "I was taking an early lunch . . ."

His voice trailed off, nothing more left to say. Both pairs of eyes turned to the destruction before them. At least half the building had been—what, blown up? Ria couldn't fathom the idea of a bomb. Who would attack the Lightman Group building? The thought made her feel nauseous and dizzy.

"Oy, Loker!" Cal called out suddenly, raising his arm and staring past Ria's shoulder. The curly-haired man trudged up with a bandage taped to his head and dried blood on his collar. His clothes were dirty and wrinkled, having seen better days.

"Are you alright? What the hell happened to you?" Ria asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, I'm just dandy." Loker said begrudgingly, touching his head tenderly. "My head got in a fight with the wall and I think it's evident who lost."

Ria winced and reached out to touch the wound, but Loker jerked his head away.

"Watch it! That hurts!" Loker sounded like a little kid, lip jutted out in a pout. Ria couldn't help but crack a small smile in the midst of the panic at Loker's attitude. That smile faded quickly as she turned to face Lightman, his arms folded across his chest and hazel eyes staring unwaveringly at the broken building. Ria's brows knitted together in concern when she noticed the way his jaw was slightly tensed and clenched. His eyes fell to ground after a moment and he bit his lower lip, obviously deep in thought, before repeating the process and once again staring at the building.

"What is it?" Ria asked suddenly, realizing something was wrong. She didn't know how she could've been so stupid. How she could've missed it. She'd been so wrapped up in her own safety and in the destruction and Eli and everything else, she'd been oblivious. Lightman's voice was unguarded when he spoke, letting all the concern and frustration slip through.

"Where the hell's Foster?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **First, I'd like to say I apologize for not updating in so long. I've had quite a few unexpected events over the past few months and add a new semester of classes onto that and you've got a big mixture of chaos. I've been busy sorting through some things and I just wanted to let anyone who might still be following this story know that I have **NOT **given up on it! I understand if you're pissed or have given up on this story. I'm not used to posting multiple-chapter stories and I thought I could handle updates, but apparently I'm going to have to work on that a bit more.

Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, even if it was just a message letting me know I better get my butt in gear and start updating. All reviews make me feel more like writing, even when everything around me is chaotic. I'm so sorry for the wait!

**Chapter 3**

Hours passed and the smoke cleared, dissipating into air like plumes from the dying embers of a campfire. Broken glass that shimmered like diamonds in the sunlight was swept up and the metal framework of the most heavily damaged side of the building was twisted and bent, reaching toward the sky like blackened, broken arms. The small group of bystanders had grown exponentially over the hours though the police tried their best to get them to move along, but like moths to a flame these people were attracted to the destruction.

His watch read 4:17 but Cal didn't really care. It had become a habit, his hazel eyes flickering toward the face of his wristwatch to briefly observe the second hand _tick-tick-tick_ like a quiet little metronome. The police had already questioned him twice, but asked him to stay on the site in case any further questions arose. Torres was currently being questioned herself while Loker had his soiled bandages traded out for fresh white ones. His head wound was going to need some stitches, but nothing more serious than that.

"Any word yet?" Loker asked, his tone less than hopeful as he took a seat on the curb beside his boss.

"No."

Loker nodded solemnly to himself, eyes sweeping the destruction for what must be the millionth time. Running his fingers through the messy curls shooting off at odd angles from his head, he released a small sigh. A frustrated sigh. People didn't just disappear, he thought with annoyance as his mind wandered to Gillian Foster. His eyes slid toward Cal, silently examining the man's face, hoping he might be able to tell what he was thinking, but coming up blank. Even in tragedy, he was too good. Too experienced at hiding what he was thinking, what he was feeling. Cal looked about as stricken as a man getting a parking ticket. Other than the slight annoyance in his features, there was nothing. Still, Loker knew the man was a walking lie. No one could feel such apathy after witnessing his own building attacked, after watching numerous employees being pulled from the building by firefighters with bleeding injuries, broken bones and tear-streamed faces. No one could feel _nothing_ when his partner, or more correctly, his best friend was missing. His only friend, maybe. Loker liked to think Cal had other friends, but he knew there were very few he trusted like he did Gillian and that made her different.

"Is Ria still with the police?" Loker broke the silence that drove him crazy. It was too heavy and thick. Too full of the things nobody wanted to say and the lies everyone did. This feeling was one of the reasons why he'd chosen radical honesty. There was never any pressure if everything was out in the open.

"Yeah."

Loker nodded once more, wondering what he could say to get his boss off the monosyllabic answer streak.

Suddenly, a shadow crossed the path of the sunlight, shading the two men from its rays. They looked up into the sweaty, dust-covered face of a police officer who looked about ten years older than he probably was and seemed like he'd seen better days. Dirty-blonde hair was windswept and strands of it stuck to his face as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"You Dr. Lightman?" The man asked, voice scratchy from delivering orders over the shouting crowds and grind of equipment.

Cal nodded as he stood, pushing strands of hair from his face. Loker shot up after him, assuming a no-nonsense expression and puffing out his chest a bit to assure the cop that he was Lightman's right-hand man. Even if he didn't believe it himself, he figured he could use the ego boost at such a desperate time. The officer didn't even glance in his direction.

"We think we've found Dr. Foster," The man swept his hand through his hair and squinted. "Appears she's been checked into a hospital a few miles outside of D.C. called Harris Methodist."

"A hospital?" Cal's brow furrowed and he tried to ignore the wave of relief that released the tension from his chest. "Was she taken by ambulance?"

"As far as I can tell, the paramedics here had nothing to do with it. Harris Methodist is too far to be practical. They've been shipping the injured to another hospital a few minutes from here." The cop took another swipe at his dripping forehead before offering an apologetic smile. "Maybe she hitched a ride. Hell if I know."

Cal and Loker watched the man shamble off toward a group of tired looking officers before their eyes met. Ria interrupted them as she approached, cursing under her breath about the damn police and their over-excited imaginations when it came to who was and wasn't considered a suspect. She immediately realized that the air around the two men was charged and her scowl faded away.

"What is it?" Her voice was quick and urgent.

"We found Dr. Foster." Eli said quietly, a puzzled tone masking his voice.

"At a hospital." Cal added, just as much confusion in his voice.

"That's great." Ria's eyes widened exponentially and all thoughts of crooked cops were forgotten. "Can we see her? Is she with the others the paramedics were taking?"

"She's not in D.C." Eli explained as Cal's eyes slid back toward the building, his mind already racing with possibilities ranging from the sane and logical to the impossibly fanatical.

"What do you mean?" The dark-haired woman inquired, eyes focused on her pondering boss rather than the curly-haired man.

"I guess D.C. hospitals aren't good enough for her." He shrugged, receiving a set of rolling eyes in return.

"Well, is she hurt?" Ria asked, crossing her arms.

"We don't know." Loker stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"Who brought her to the hospital?"

"_We don't know_." Loker sighed in exasperation, turning toward Cal for help in clarifying the situation. Loker blinked once, then twice, at the empty air beside him.

"You coming?" Cal called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the corner, past the police tape and fire engines, toward the street where he planned on flagging down a cab. Loker and Ria exchanged a brief glance before jogging toward the cab, thinking there may be more to this bombing than a simple terrorist attack.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hello! Here's another update for you guys :) I love the positive reviews I've received and they really do put me in the writing mood, so thank you everyone who bothered to type one up! This chapter is tiny bit shorter than the others and I'm not sure how it turned out compared to my original plan, but all in all it is mostly here for some information and background-type stuff. I figured I owed you all a quick update after waiting so long for the last one. So…here it is! Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four**

Curled tightly in her fingers, the small coin made a light imprint on her skin. The rough edges and weathered face of the quarter-sized piece of silver left a fading circle in her palm until she squeezed her fist again. An unsuspecting bystander might mistake her steady concentration for fascination with the metal, but her thoughts were miles—and years—away. Memories were fuzzy but the case was still clear and the startling discovery she'd made upon awakening in a strange hospital bed had set the wheels turning. There were too many questions and no one with answers. It was like a thin film of fog had covered her eyes, allowing her to glimpse only shadows of those memories but never fully seeing anything.

Consumed with her thoughts, she didn't hear them enter. Didn't look up, didn't smile in relief or gratitude. Nothing. A thick silence settled over the room when her quick blue eyes finally appraised her guests. Brows furrowing in confusion, she immediately sought out his eyes, asking the same thousand questions that had been running through her head since she'd awoken. Her lips didn't move, but her eyes pleaded with him to understand.

Holding out her hand, she silently encouraged him to take it. When his fist uncurled around the coin he felt his blood run cold. Gillian watched the recognition sweep across his face, starting with his eyes and ending with his lips pressing into a firm line and his jaw tightening. Torres and Loker slid like shadows against the wall, watching the interaction with perplexed awe. They could merely stand aside as this silent conversation drew to a close.

Hazel eyes met blue in disbelief. Gillian's head immediately tilted downward as if she were a child being scolded.

"Where did you get this?" Cal asked quietly, the first to break the suffocating silence.

"It was the . . ." Gillian murmured, voice so low and fragile it sounded like the wrong word might cause her to shatter. Indicating the small table beside her bed, she gathered her strength and cleared her throat. "It was there when I woke up."

"And you didn't _tell_ anyone?"

Torres' eyes widened at the harsh, accusing tone Cal had instantly adopted. Loker ducked his head, biting his tongue from letting loose something that might turn the older man's wrath upon him. Gillian took the anger in his voice and the accusatory stare with an odd kind of grace, obviously used to dealing with the man when upset. For a long time, the only sound rose from the air-conditioning unit, humming and whirring like a hive of bees nestled in the corner of the room.

"What was I supposed to say?" Gillian replied quietly, matching her partner's intensity without raising her voice, cerulean eyes hard and challenging. For all the determination in those eyes and the defiance in her features, she couldn't hide the tiny bit of fear that pricked at her mind and inevitably fell upon her face. She didn't need the misdirected anger on top of everything else. The last thing she remembered was leaving Cal's office before darkness had swallowed her and the loss of memory was unsettling. Torres watched as Cal's entire body relaxed, his anger being swept away with that single look, those eyes full of a whirlwind of emotions staring at him from the hospital bed.

"I don't know . . ." Cal murmured, sighing as his fingers pushed through his hair. "I don't know."

"What is it?" Torres finally asked, gathering her courage and keeping her voice soft, trying not to provoke confrontation. She felt like she was walking on eggshells just speaking out as it was. Loker shot her a look that might have been comical had the situation not been so heavy, so tensely suffocating. "The coin, I mean."

"It's . . ." Gillian started, but her voice trailed off, eyes searching a faraway distance for the best words. Having spent the last hour or so denying herself the possibility that this coin really was what it was, she wasn't sure how to answer honestly. She didn't want to admit it, preferring to live in brief ignorance if it kept the prickly, nauseous feeling at bay.

"It's a signature. A trademark." Cal concluded, tossing the young woman the coin. "A simple coin of South American origin. It was the signature of Augustine Chalo."

"Augustine Chalo?" Torres frowned, sweeping through her memories, wondering if she'd ever heard the name before. Her mind came up blank.

"He was a murderer in D.C. a few years back. Authorities kept it remarkably low profile so it's not surprising for the name to be foreign to you." Cal continued in an almost detached voice, as if he were reciting facts from a spreadsheet. "These coins, they were like a countdown. Each victim received one coin after another. At work, home—didn't matter."

"There were five coins in all." Gillian's voice broke through before Cal could continue. "The women received four."

"Then what about the—" Ria began, but was cut off.

"Found with the body." Cal interrupted, finally allowing an emotion to slip into his voice that Ria couldn't quite place at the moment. It was subdued and withdrawn, but present. It swelled and encompassed the room but remained unknown.

"You think this is the same guy?" Ria spoke warily, chancing a glance at Loker whose head was dipped down in confusion. "Chalo?"

"That's impossible." Loker said finally, shoving his hands in his pockets as memories flooded in of stumbling upon the case file for this very investigation while filing old paperwork his first few weeks working for Lightman.

"Why?" Ria questioned, growing frustrated as the evidence seemed to point to the former murderer's old special brand of terror.

"Because," Cal sighed again, eyes fixed on Gillian though her own eyes stared unwaveringly at the bedspread in silent acceptance. _It was only a matter of time, _she thought, _only a matter of time before this happened. _

"Chalo was caught and executed four years ago." Cal muttered, his voice cold and thick with annoyance as if speaking to the dead man himself. This time he didn't hide the contempt from his face.

Ria's eyes widened in realization and Loker pushed off the wall, releasing a heavy sigh and throwing his arm around the Latino woman's shoulders.

"And you're looking at the man who caught him." Loker said with resignation. Each pair of eyes slowly fixed on Cal Lightman and the implications of this most recent development.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Well, it's been longer than I would have liked since my last update! I apologize for that, so I made sure this chapter was at least a tad bit longer than the others. I wasn't lying when I said I knew where this story was going, it's just a matter of having the time to write everything down in a way I like. I can't tell you how many times I have to write a chapter before I feel good about it! So, without further ado, here's chapter five!**

**P.S. Thank you so much for all the reviews! I read each one and they definitely give me some more confidence in my writing :)**

**Chapter Five**

_Thump. Thump. Thump._

Cal's fingers tapping against the steering wheel lightly synced up to the quick, anxious beating of his heart. Hazel eyes swept once more to his partner, her gaze fixed out the passenger window and into the light mid-day traffic. Sunlight bounced off strands of light brown hair as she felt his eyes upon her, turning with a question in her own crystal blue pair. The tapping stopped and hands tightened on the wheel, staring ahead as he gently eased the car forward.

The silence was slowly suffocating him as a million thoughts flew through Cal's head. Having sent Torres and Loker back to the office to deal with the police while he drove Gillian home, Cal found a heavy awkwardness settling between them. It was unnatural and unwelcome, but they were both too preoccupied with their own thoughts to speak aloud.

Cal slammed on the breaks as he almost drove into the back of the SUV in front of them. Gillian shot him a worried glance, surprise melting into soft concern.

"Sorry, love." He murmured quietly, refusing to meet her eyes this time.

"Cal . . ." Gillian's voice was thick with concern and Cal hated it. She was the one who'd been attacked, the one whose life was in danger! Cal wondered how he was able to unconsciously twist every situation toward himself. It was selfish and he hated it, hated himself. Why was it so easy for a dangerous man to just waltz into his office and abduct his partner? Why wasn't he paying more attention? Surely there was something to see, something to notice that might have prevented such a fiasco.

"Cal, did you hear me?" Gillian's voice cut through his silent castigation. "You need to take the next exit."

Shaking his head as if to clear himself of troubling thoughts, Cal swooped off the highway and onto the access road. Making a quick right, he pulled into the parking garage of Gillian's new, temporary home. The statuesque apartment building stretched high into the sky, glass windows reflecting the sunlight like the broken glass from earlier. Cal pulled into the first available parking spot and pulled the keys from the ignition, holding them tightly in his fist. Gillian worried her bottom lip between her teeth before Cal finally met her eyes, the mask in place and a look of blank questioning overcoming his features.

"What's wrong?" Gillian asked softly, an almost pleading tone wedging its way into her voice.

Cal scoffed at this, a humorless laugh slipping past his lips. What's wrong? Was she seriously asking him a question with such an obvious answer? You didn't have to be a master at reading facial cues and expressions to catch the palpable look of disbelief on Cal's face. Forgoing an answer, Cal swung his door open and stepped out of the car. Gillian paused before exiting, a sharp pang emanating from her chest. Had she done something wrong? Why was Cal so tense, so anxious, so angry? Angry with her?

The pair ascended the building via the elevator, Cal's hands shoved into his pockets and Gillian's clasped tightly behind her back. Two pairs of eyes watched the floor number climb as the elevator scaled the building, coming to a gentle stop at seven. With a hesitant ding, as if afraid to break this fragile air of reticence, the elevator doors slid open to reveal a conservatively decorated hallway with doors on either side spanning its length. Taking the lead, Gillian led Cal to her door, reaching into her purse for the brand new key to her brand new life. Leaning against the wall beside the door, Cal stared at the carpeted floor, nodding as if in time with some unheard music. Shoving the key into the lock, Gillian hesitated.

"Cal, are you upset with me?" Gillian almost whispered, afraid of this foreign uneasiness that had overcome them. This was Cal, she tried to scold herself for her uncertainty.

"What?" Brow furrowed, Cal finally acknowledged her presence. His hazel eyes were stricken, as if the thought hurt him physically. "No, no . . . that's not it at all."

"Then what is it?" Gillian turned to him, leaving the key sticking out of the lock as angry blue eyes penetrated him, her determination keeping the tears at bay. "You haven't said more than two words to me since we left the hospital. You won't even look at me."

Gillian swallowed back her anger and wiped at her eyes with frustration. Prepared for whatever excuse Cal had for her, she inhaled sharply when instead she felt gentle fingers brush her skin just beneath the stark white bandage on her left temple.

"I'm sorry . . ." Cal frowned. "Did I hurt you?"

Gillian gave a small shake of her head as Cal withdrew his hand, both pairs of eyes searching the other for unspoken truths. A beat of silence passed but the previous tension seemed to be melting away as an air of familiarity washed over them. Cal's hands returned to his pockets and he rocked back on his heels for a second, thinking.

"I'm not upset with you." Cal said finally in answer to her earlier question. "I've just got a lot on my mind, love."

"You know I'll always be here if you want to talk." Gillian offered quietly, hoping he wouldn't shy away from her this time. God knows she needed him now more than she was willing to admit. Cal felt a sting of shame again as she reached out to him with her words, attempting to comfort him when he should be the one doing the comforting.

"I don't . . . I don't like this." Cal shook his head, pulling a hand from his pocket and gesturing to the empty hall around them.

"What?" One eyebrow raised inquisitively, Gillian gave a quick glance around before meeting his eyes.

"_This._" Cal scrunched his face up as if he'd caught the scent of something particularly unpleasant. "We've obviously got some kind of copycat on our hands."

_Copycat. _The word sent a shiver down Gillian's spine as her mind flashed back to the Jenkins case, but she forced the frightening memories away.

"I don't like the idea of you being alone." Cal said finally, nodding in agreeance with himself. Gillian blinked once. Twice. A smile fell upon her lips as a wave of soft laughter escaped her. Cal shot her an annoyed look that said he found none of this funny at all. Apologizing, Gillian composed herself and shook her head softly.

"I'll be fine, Cal." Bright blue eyes sparkled with amusement for the first time since leaving the hospital. While it comforted him in a way, Cal couldn't help but frown at this turn of events. She was _laughing _at him for worrying about her? He felt his worry was well placed, what with the unmistakable coin currently burning a hole in his pocket. If anyone should be laughing, it should be _him_ for her belief that he would actually allow her to be on her own after the events of the day!

Cal opened his mouth to protest but Gillian beat him to it, holding up a hand.

"No. Stop." Gillian raised her eyebrows like a mother threatening a child. "You have enough of a mess to sort through without having to babysit me. I understand where you're coming from, Cal, but I can take care of myself. I'll call you later, okay?"

Cal opened his mouth a few times but ended up looking more like a fish than an outraged friend bent on getting his way, whether it meant shoving the woman before him into the trunk of his car or not. Amusement faded from her eyes suddenly, a sincere smile crossing her painted lips. Cal's mouth snapped shut as two warm arms wrapped themselves around his neck, pulling him against her. After a moment of hesitation he returned the careful embrace, his arms encircling his partner's waist, first uncertainly before tightening into a more protective hold. It lasted no more than ten seconds but it felt like he held onto her for an hour without any thought of letting go.

"Thank you," Gillian told him quietly before pulling away, smiling at the dumbstruck expression on his face. By the time Cal regained his mental faculties, Gillian was already slipping into her apartment, the door shutting with a soft click behind her. Cal stared at the closed door for a full minute.

"For what?" Cal asked the painted wood with the brass number 42 on it. Closing his eyes for a second, he caught the lingering scent of her perfume clinging to his shirt and jacket. While his uneasiness about leaving her alone still clung to him like the sweet scent of his partner, he realized this was one battle he wasn't going to win. Forcing himself toward the elevator, Cal spun his car keys around his finger, thankful he'd sent Loker to grab his car from what was left of the office and that he wouldn't have to grab a cab to get home. Leaning against the wall as the elevator began it's descent, Cal allowed himself a small smile. Withdrawing the foreboding coin, Cal flipped it once and caught it mid-air. Making a promise to himself, he knew one thing was positive. If somebody wanted to hurt Gillian, they would have to go through him first.

The elevator opened to the dim parking garage, and Cal shoved off the wall with a determined smirk, unaware of the eyes observing him from the crawling shadows.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for the prolonged update but I was in-between computers. I've bought a new laptop so I hope this will help me update more often since I won't have to find time to start up my ancient desktop PC and can now write in places other than my home. As always, big thanks to everyone who reviews and I hope the concrit and comments will persist as I keep writing out this story! :) Enjoy.**

**Chapter Six**

Careful hands slid the envelope across the table, pulling back the sticky flap and holding it open. A crooked grin captured the man's lips as he examined the coin between his fingers longingly, as if looking upon a treasure long lost to the world. Dropping the coin into the waiting envelope, he sealed the flap down and shook it experimentally. The coin bounced from corner to corner within. The twisting grin grew, nearly splitting his scarred face in two. Turning the envelope over, the stark white of its front facing up, the man grabbed a pen and tapped it against his chin. Finally setting pen to paper, he meticulously traced the lines he'd drawn in his head, embellishing them with large loops and little flicks to accent each letter. Satisfied with his work, he let the pen drop to the table, rolling off and clattering to the tiled floor below.

Perfect.

***The Next Morning***

Not a drop of alcohol had touched Cal Lightman's lips after he'd left his partner's apartment, but the shrill ringing of his telephone drawing him from deep slumber made his head pound as if plagued with the worst of hangovers. Cursing softly, he poked his head out from beneath his heavy blankets and reached for the receiver, pulling it against his head a bit too roughly in his annoyance and nearly smacking himself in the face.

"Yeah? Hello?" Cal grunted, pushing himself up from beneath the warm cocoon of blankets.

"Cal Lightman?" A sharp, authoritative voice spoke from the opposite end.

"Speaking," Cal spoke with a mocking tone, not the cheeriest of people in the morning.

"Dr. Lightman, I apologize for disturbing you so early this morning, but my name is Daniel Blake. I'm an officer with the D.C. Police Department and we're requesting your assistance with an urgent matter." The man's words came quick and stiff, painting a million clear pictures of possible tragedy in Cal's mind.

"What urgent matter?" Cal asked, tucking the phone between his shoulder and head as he stepped into yesterday's jeans, pulling them to his waist and buttoning them quickly. As the man spoke, he searched his bedroom for a shirt, finally settling on one of his darker dress shirts, buttoning it as the facts spilled into his ear.

"Apparently, an office building a few blocks over from your own has received a threatening letter this morning. We're asking you to help with damage control. We need to know if this threat is real. We can't risk another attack after yesterday's events." The man was speaking twice as quickly now, and shouting could be heard in the background.

"A letter?" Cal shrugged into a jacket after attempting to comb his hair into something remotely presentable, though his fingers weren't working as well as he'd thought. "I don't know what you've heard about me, but I think there might be a bit too many rumors floating around if you think I can confirm a threat through words on paper."

"I understand," The man replied, "But we also received a letter for you."

"For me?" Cal asked stupidly, at a loss for anything more to say.

"Actually, for a member of your team." The young officer replied. "The letter was addressed to Dr. Gillian Foster, and the threat sent to Michael Dunbar's office requires the deliverance of this letter. If not . . ."

Cal heard the man's voice trail off into silence and he cursed once more.

"There are many lives in danger, Dr. Lightman. We would appreciate your full cooperation."

Biting his lip lightly in concentration, Cal nodded slowly to himself. Thoughts flew through his mind at a million miles an hour as the young officer relayed their current location and Cal scribbled the address onto a scrap of paper. Less than ten minutes after being so abruptly awakened, Cal jogged to his car and backed out of the driveway, intent on making one quick stop before reaching the officer's location and seeing the next step in the mysterious copycat's game play out.

* * * * *

Gillian knotted the tie on her dark blue robe—a men's large that hung heavily on her small frame, but was comfortable nonetheless—and silently cursed the person currently banging on her door at such an ungodly hour. Throwing open the front door, she prepared herself for any number of annoyances but was cut off immediately by the only one she hadn't seen coming in her sleep-induced haze.

"Hi." Cal rocked back on his heels, hair disheveled and clothes wrinkled. Shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyes swept across his partner from head to toe before he raised an eyebrow. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Yes." Gillian scowled lightly, opening the door wide and stomping back into her apartment like an upset child. "I was sleeping."

"In that?" Cal asked as he followed her in with slight trepidation. Opening his mouth to produce some sort of smartass remark, he caught the icy glare in the robed woman's eyes and decided to save it for later.

"It's Alec's." Gillian sighed softly, rubbing her forehead to ease the forming headache.

_It's too early for this,_ she thought grumpily.

"Not anymore, I see." Cal offered a small, apologetic smile. "Anyway, you gotta get dressed. We're needed."

"And what's the emergency, Batman?" Gillian retorted, falling against her sofa and unconsciously holding a pillow to her chest, attempting to snuggle into a position more suitable for sleep. Cal stood a few feet away for a moment, eyes raised at this atypical display of Gillian Foster cheerlessness.

"Well, I see someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," he quipped, taking a hesitant step forward lest he anger the woman further. A brief silence settled over them before clear blue eyes peeked open and she brought the pillow to her lap.

"Sorry . . ." She murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I guess I didn't get much sleep last night."

"No, you've nothing to be sorry for, love." Cal ran a hand through his hair, realizing for the first time the toll this mysterious copycat must be having on his partner, no matter how strong a front she displayed. "Just do whatever you need to do and I'll fill you in on the way, yeah?"

Gillian hesitated before nodding and depositing the pillow on the couch beside her, standing and flashing Cal a small, grateful smile before disappearing down the hall behind him. Cal didn't release the breath he'd been holding until he heard her bedroom door shut with a soft click. He wondered who was taking this whole situation worse: him or her. He wondered what the implications of answering such a question might be. Shaking his head to dispel these thoughts for the moment, he occupied the now vacant spot on the sofa and tapped his fingers anxiously against his knees as he waited.


	7. Author's Note

Dear readers,

No, I have NOT given up on this story! I actually enjoy writing it as much as you guys tell me you enjoy reading it. I feel like a broken record by apologizing every time I update for the unfair time span between chapters, but I still do apologize. Remember that awesome new laptop I spoke about last chapter? Yeah, well, it turned out to be not so awesome. I'm having some technical problems that unfortunately keep me from making the deadlines I set for myself. I originally planned to have a few chapters out immediately after the holidays but alas, no such luck. I'm working as quickly as I can to get these issues, among others, resolved! For those of you still sticking around, I appreciate it (and question your sanity sometimes, but in a good way ;D). Once again, I'm sorry!

Working and driving herself crazy, and VERY apologetic,

Amanda (toomuchsprite)


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